


Into Darkness

by ElasticElla



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Barry Allen/Felicity Smoak, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2836145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver doesn't come back after the Climb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> podfic streaming [here](http://knavishkali.tumblr.com/post/114616708464/a-short-felicity-laurel-fic-to-test-out)

Felicity tells herself she's going to wait twenty-four hours before trying to find him. She knows the climb up will take time, and she hopes the duel will too. She's going to wait. 

She can do that. 

Her fingers itch to hack into somewhere, anywhere- she needs to feel useful, she was never good at playing patient. 

The hairs are standing on the back of her neck, and she isn't scared, isn't worried that Diggle needed to be with his family. She turns fully expecting to see the Arrow, perhaps with some blood and in need of medical attention, but _home_.

"No. _No!_ "

Nyssa stands there instead, quiver on her back and a green hood in her hands. Her mask dangles, and her lips are a flat line. 

Felicity snatches the hood, tears dripping down her face. She doesn't have the mind to be afraid of probably the most dangerous woman in the world, but she does have enough not to rage at her, not to scream about her father killing the wrong person. 

She expects for Nyssa to disappear, she expects to be left alone to grieve. 

She's been expecting the wrong things today. 

"I didn't bring the hood back for you to weep on it." 

Felicity's answer is lost in tears, angry retorts clawing at her dry throat. None crawl out, which is probably best for her chances of survival. 

"I brought it back for you to wear it." 

Hysterical laughter bubbles up, flattening to tears only scant moments later. Felicity knows the answer to this one, Dig should wear it- he's worn it before, he has the training. 

But when she lifts her head to speak, Nyssa is gone. 

.

Shaking wakes Felicity up, and the first thing she sees is the green hood. Without blurry vision, she can see the wide rip, and her heart aches harder. 

"Felicity? What's going on?" 

Laurel. Of course Laurel is here. Felicity wishes Dig was, he'd know how to sort this out. He was always good with people. 

"O-Oliver went to-. You need to know, the person who killed Sara, they were being mind controlled- they weren't themselves."

Laurel nods slowly, "So Oliver went after the puppeteer then?" 

"He wanted to make sure the person under their control wasn't blamed, please don't blame them Laurel, they had no control, he already..." 

"Malcolm was behind it wasn't he?" 

And this is an easier question, and Felicity feels like she can breathe again. "Yes." 

Laurel sinks down, sitting next to her, "It was Thea wasn't it?" 

Felicity can feel the panic rising in her throat, and Laurel lets out a sad, pathetic laugh, "I could never go after Thea Felicity, never."

There's a pause, and then Felicity says, "I didn't think you would, but after- I couldn't risk it, with Oliver..."

The words die.

"We'll get Malcolm."

.

The funeral is small, small enough that Oliver may have liked it. 

There's Thea and Dig and Felicity and Laurel and Roy and Barry. A few scattered relatives that don't say much and don't stay for the reception. 

Thea leaves early. 

Roy follows. 

The rest crack open a bottle of rum, and of coke for Laurel, drinking and talking away the night. They traded tales and anecdotes, saves and falls. 

Barry brings Felicity home. 

She's been avoiding her boss, knows Ray is far too close to Oliver to deal with. 

Barry isn't though. 

Barry is sweet and geeky and soft and they both know it won't mean anything more in the morning. They trade kisses like hugs, orgasms like smiles, and words they both aren't ready to say to other people. He's sunshine with a dash of rain, and Felicity knows in another universe, they could be perfect together. 

The next morning has Barry still sleeping on her chest, and she drafts an email to Ray, formally requesting time off, citing a death in the family. Her tablet chimes quickly with his response, Barry waking up slowly, the simple words a relief, _take as much time as you need_.

.

Diggle refuses to meet at Verdant, or below it. 

They meet at a coffee shop instead, two large mugs before them. 

"I'm not going to do it Felicity." 

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask! Maybe I was curious if you wanted to split a blueberry scone with me."

Diggle smiles, raising an eyebrow, "You don't like blueberries. And I'm done. I don't want to do it without Oliver, and I have a family now it's...it's different. I don't think about Deadshot anymore, I think about Sara and Lyla." 

"You're sure." 

"I am," he says, grasping one of Felicity's hands. "And I don't think you should do it either, he'd want you safe." 

"He'd want the city safe."

"He'd want both Felicity." 

Diggle's phone vibrates over the table, Amanda's name flashing up. He takes it without hesitation, and Laurel walks in.

.

Felicity spends more and more time with Laurel. Enough that she doesn't think Oliver's ex when she sees her, enough that she doesn't think Sara's sister- she just thinks Laurel. 

Neither of them feel like they have much to lose anymore. They live in the basement and in the shadows, fake smiles for the daylight. 

Felicity's holding Laurel's hand when Laurel tells her family about Sara, Felicity's there when Laurel completes her training.

She starts training Felicity within the day. Oliver and Diggle had been her last teachers, going more for self-defense than attack. Only Sara had begun to show her how to hurt people, and now her sister was doing the rest. 

Diggle stops trying to persuade her not to become a hero, not to wear the hood. 

She's not going to- the bow isn't her weapon, daggers are. She can't be the Arrow, or even a better Arrow, and she's beginning to think that's okay. The knives make everything more personal, she comes in close to her targets, gets their blood on her hands. It's a messy business, and Felicity has had more than one blood sample tossed. 

It should worry her more. Her old self would be terrified of her, would hate her. But the short blades feel natural in her hands, feel natural slicing up through a criminal's throat. It's almost zen-like, the way she can sink into the attacks, the way nothing else exists in that moment.

She has more scars now, enough that she has to check her cutout dresses to keep them hidden. 

.

Laurel brings a newspaper down one night, the inevitable article splayed across the front page, ' _Arrow Gone: Was the late Oliver Queen the Arrow?_ ' 

The next night they pack up everything they're using, and fill Laurel's apartment. The hood is buried in Oliver Queen's second empty grave.

.

They're closer, far closer than Felicity ever thought they would be. Felicity's not going to kid herself, if she thought there was ever going to be something sapphic in her life, she would have bet on Sara. 

But Laurel... Laurel was always so untouchable. Yet here she is, grabbing Felicity's wrists, slamming her up against the wall, slamming into her whenever she loses. And one time, she has her forearm pressed up underneath Felicity's chin and Felicity's gasping, "You win, you win." And the words are breathless and warm, and Laurel leans forward a little bit and kisses them off her lips. 

.

There are two women on the rooftops, both clad in black. They stick to the shadows, and blood dribbles in their footsteps. 

The city is safe.


End file.
